Page 15 of Privileged (Adrenalin)

Sloan

Iwring my fingers together, at a loss for words.

Carter’s fighting for the town, for a memory he shares with the people, and no one realizes it. Yes, that’s partly his fault, but I can appreciate not wanting to give people false hope. No wonder his eyes always seem so serious. So distant. He feels the weight of the entire town bearing down on him, magnified because they don’t know he’s working on their behalf.

I have the sudden urge to wrap my arms around him, pull him to me and tell him everything will be okay.He really is an underdog. Instead, I try to keep him talking, realizing that maybe what he needs is a friendly ear.

“You said this is your dream?” I prompt, stepping back to the table to resume his massage.

“To work in the ski industry, yeah.”

“Because you used to race?” I run my hands along his spine, one at a time, as I finish up his back.

“Partly. That, and I don’t want to follow in my dad’s footsteps.”

“What are those?”

“Mortgages. He owns one of the largest lenders in the country. Tell me about you.” Carter blocks any follow-up question I could ask, telling me in no uncertain terms he’s done sharing. That’s fair given what he just told me.

Lifting up the sheet I signal for him to roll over. When he’s settled, I stand behind him and snake my arms underneath his back. It puts my chest inches from his face, which isn’t supposed to be sexual, but it’s hard not to notice. I answer his question to distract myself.

“I studied physical therapy back east and found a job working with the elderly out of school. The clients were amazing, so sweet and excited to see me each week, and even though they were prone to telling me the same story all the time I didn’t get tired of talking to them.”

Carter’s back arches as I pull my hands up his spine, letting gravity work out the kinks, and causing things to stir down below. I try to tamp down the effect of his marble-like physique by rambling about my background. “But the work wasn’t challenging. I wanted to concentrate more on helping athletes rehab after injury than people getting back to normal after accidents or just trying to retain their mobility. I moved here since my sister and brother-in-law live here, and I was hoping to get a job with the ski team but there aren’t any openings. I took a job at the spa while I wait for one since massage and physical therapy overlap a bit.”

“I saw you at Murphy’s last week, you work there too?” His voice is muffled against my chest as I make a final pass along his spine, trying not to let my gaze linger on the powerful thighs I can see beneath the sheet that’s supposed to protect his modesty.

“Well, despite making decent money at the spa, it’s still not enough to afford my own place, and I don’t want to crash with my sister forever.”

“Why not stay here at the resort? We have employee housing.”

I pull his right arm from under the sheet and rub firm circles into his shoulder with the heel of my hand. With his eyes shut he almost passes for peaceful, except for the tension I feel in his muscles. “There are far more employees than there are places to stay.”

A wrinkle creases his forehead. “I thought there were openings since so many of the seasonal employees work elsewhere during the summer?”

“There’s actually still a waiting list. I checked.”

The wrinkle deepens, as if I’ve just added to his stress. Maybe it’s time for a new topic. “What made you venture out to Murphy’s the other night? I haven’t seen you there before.”

“I had a craving for fries.”

“There are at least five places on the mountain that make fries.”

“Not like Murphy’s,” he mumbles. I don’t press since I happen to agree with him. Lennon has a special recipe that gives them a salt and vinegar flavor without making them soggy.

“You look like you’ve never had a fry in your life.” The words are out before I can stop them, and my hand stills on his shoulder of its own volition.Way to keep things professional Sloan, comment on his body.The corner of his mouth ticks up like he’s fighting a smile.Dammit.

Ignoring my flub, I lift his hand to mine, threading my fingers through his before squeezing and pulling to stretch them. Even those are tight. I trap his pointer finger between two of mine, tugging it gently to release the tension, then rubbing small circles into the pad at the tip. He goes utterly still, seeming to hold his breath. When it returns it seems forced. Deliberately steady. After I finish the other arm, I see why.

I’m both flattered and dismayed to see the sheet draped over his impressive erection. The idea that my touch can bring a man to this stateof arousal is sort of intoxicating. It makes me feel almost powerful, like a vixen, which I’ve never experienced before. I like that. But I hate that it’s not real. It can’t be, considering there’s nothing between us except the physical sensation of giving and receiving a massage.

For a brief moment, I wish I was the kind of man who could act on impulse. There’s obviously chemistry between us, and if these interactions are any indication, the spark could become an inferno if we let it. But I’m not naïve enough to think the chemistry comes from me so much as it does the situation. He’s practically naked after all, and I’m touching himeverywhere. Besides, even if I could be spontaneous, it’s not wise to go down that path in this town, where word is likely to make it back to Ally and Finn before I can pack up my massage table.

“Carter, If you can’t controlthatyou’re going to have to find a different masseuse.” I will my voice to sound exasperated instead of offended, hoping my comments will lighten the mood.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “I swear I’m just as frustrated by this as you.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I doubt that, but he doesn’t know about the flutter between my legs, and how badly I want to see what’s underneath the sheet.

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